


Rescuer

by RiverOfFandoms



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Sleep, almost smut but not really?, spend the night - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15657114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverOfFandoms/pseuds/RiverOfFandoms
Summary: You meet an attractive stranger at a bar, Rafe Adler. He changes how you feel.





	Rescuer

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: As much as I love reading crazy Rafe inserts, I decided to take a kinder route with his character in this one, at least kinder than most I’ve read. Hope you enjoy reading! This is written to just be a one shot but I feel like it’s quite open for more parts, if I feel inspired to write more.

 

You slide onto the stool pulled up against the bar; sighing, you fold your arms over the bar and rest your forehead onto your arms. It’s been one of those weeks. You raise your head and instead rest your chin on your arms as you stare up at all the fancy bottles of alcohol lined up against the wall. People come up beside you to quickly order their drinks from the bartender, a dark-haired man with a bundle of curls on top of his head and a charming smile to gain those needed tips.

You roll your eyes and suddenly regret ever coming out tonight. You turn your head and glance over at your friends to your left, all singing and dancing, drunkenly swaying to the music and laughing out loud like they’re on top of the world. Maybe if you drunk a bit more you might feel the same but then again, you’ll most likely end up alone on one of their couches with a severe hangover and a dreadful day ahead of you.

“Why, don’t you look cheery.”

You glance to your right, a man sitting a couple of stools down from you with a nicely ironed dress shirt and slicked back hair stares back, a hint of a smirk on his lips. You somewhat glare at this unknown stranger, “Thanks for your input but I didn’t ask for it.”

He nods to the people still loudly dancing behind you, “Those your friends?” His voice is slightly raised so you can hear him over the pounding music.

You glance at your arms sitting on the bar, shrugging your shoulders, “If you can call them that…”

You feel his stare linger on you but you just ignore him, hating that you probably seem so pathetic but it’s not like you know the guy, so it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like your friends treat you wrongly, hell, you kind of wish they did do something to piss you off on purpose so you could have a reason to feel this way but… it’s just you, in the end. This emptiness that clouds your ability to feel sometimes becomes unbearable. The fact that they don’t see it, or really try to care, or just want to party non-stop makes you hesitate about hanging out with them most times. But tonight, you thought if you just let yourself lose a bit of control, things might go differently; obviously you were wrong.

“Want a drink?” The still unknown man asks rather plainly, as if he is obligated to ask you.

You glance up at him again, raising an eyebrow, “You’re offering me a drink?”

He raises his hands innocently, leaning back from the bar, “Hey, I’m not trying to seduce you or anything, just asking if you want one.”

“Oh, so I’m not seduction-worthy?”

He frowns, “That’s…” He shakes his head, “That is not what I meant, I was only trying to sound gentlemanly—  
He notices your grin and realizes that you were only joking, and he rolls his eyes in reply. He sighs, “Drink is still on offer.”

You smile softly and shift to the stool next to him, getting a whiff of his expensive cologne and recently shampooed hair. You glance him over quickly as he reaches for the drinks menu and realize how clean and neat he looks, but also how… handsome. You shake that thought from your mind immediately, not wanting to suddenly become bashful, but also knowing that it never ends the way you secretly want it to.

He passes you the menu and your fingers brush against his momentarily, ignoring it you glaze over the list of drink. You eye his drink. His hand is clasped around it, it’s filled with at least one more mouthful, and you spot an interesting ring sitting on one of his fingers.

You set the menu down on top of the bar and say, “I think I’ll just have what you’re having.”

He nods and calls over the bartender before ordering two more drinks of the same. You watch as the bartender makes the drinks, oddly mesmerized by his movements, maybe just too tired to make any effort in conversing with this stranger. You blink, realizing you don’t know his name even though he just bought you a drink. You turn to him and notice he’s already looking at you; you hide the blush on your cheeks, “So, what do I call my knight in shining armor?”

“Knight in shining armor?” He questions, amused, “I don’t remember rescuing you.” His eyes hold yours attentively, a hinted smile.

“Oh, you did,” You say, lifting the drink he bought to your lips as soon as the bartender places it down in front of you, “With this drink.”

He chuckles quietly, his chest shaking a little, and you notice the muscles pressed against his shirt for the first time, you notice the toned arms too, and try to not react like a stupid little school girl. He cuts into your admiration of his body by saying, “It’s Rafe.”

“Y/N.”

You watch him swallow some of his drink with ease, “Well Y/N, why the long face?”

You roll your eyes at how unoriginal he is, “Are you kidding?”

He sighs although you see a hint of a smile in the corners of his lips, “Okay, let me try again. Why are you sitting alone at a piece of shit bar while your friends are partying on the dance floor?”

You swallow another mouthful of your drink before you reply, “You know, I could ask you a similar question.”

But Rafe isn’t going to let you change the subject that easily so he responds with, “Are you going to tell me why or not?”

You sigh, letting go of your drink for a moment and turn in your stool so your facing him, “I’m wallowing in self-pity.”

He looks at you quietly for a moment as if trying to understand what you mean, “Self-pity?”

“Yeah, it’s when things just feel like shit and you decide you can’t do anything to help, so you just feel sorry for yourself.”

“Oh,” He says, raising an eyebrow, “I know.” He places his drink down too, “I meant why are you wallowing?”

“I just am.”

“So… you thought coming out with your…” He nods over to your group, “ _friends_  would what, relieve you of that? Distract you from wallowing?” He questions.

You shrug, “I guess.”

“Well,” He says matter-of-fact, “It didn’t work.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Thanks for stating the obvious.”

He raises his drink at you, “No problem.”

You laugh at him, “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

He smiles that same amused smile, “I know.”

You lean your elbow onto the bar and rest your chin into your hand, smiling to yourself as Rafe glances at his mobile. You’re not sure why but you kind of like the guy, even though he’s completely stand offish and, as admitted by himself, kind of an asshole… you appreciate his somewhat tendency to be honest – like he doesn’t care if anyone likes him or not.

One of your “friends” comes stumbling up to you, almost between you and Rafe, slurring he says, “Is this guy bothering you, Y/N?”

“No,” You respond calmly, refraining from sighing audibly. “He’s not.”  _But you are._

He frowns down at Rafe, “I don’t like the idea of some  _guy_  who’s been sitting alone at the bar hitting on you.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows at him, not out of surprise really, just something similar to amusement again.

“He’s not hitting on me we’re just talking.”

Your friend frowns again, glancing between the both of you, “Well, okay, but Y/N, you should join us out on the dance floor now. You shouldn’t be sitting here with some…” He glances somewhat menacingly at Rafe, “Some stranger.”

“It’s okay, I’d rather stay here.”

He goes to grab your arm but instead of pulling you off your stool and leading you over to the dance floor, Rafe intercepts and gently shoves him back from you, “She said no.” He says it flatly, standing up from his chair, he may not be as tall as your friend but his strength is easily seen by his build, and your friend realizes that all too quickly. He stumbles off back to the group, somewhat pissed, but you’re thankful that he’s gone.

“Thanks,” You say quietly, glancing at Rafe as he takes his seat again.

He nods before finishing off his drink, and then says, “What a charmer. Seems like you have an admirer.”

You burst out with laughter and raise your hand to cover your mouth as you notice his confused stare, shaking your head you say, “S-sorry,” still giggling, “But it’s not me he wants.” You turn to the group still dancing, their drinks sloshing over the rims of their glasses, laughing still. You point to your other friend, the blonde-haired thin girl wearing way too little clothing, “You see her?”

Rafe nods, looking back to you after glancing the girl over.

You smile half-heartedly, “I’m his one-way ticket to getting close to her.”

“Close friends?”

“Sisters.”

Rafe’s eyes widen and he looks genuinely surprised which only makes you laugh more. “I know,” You say, spinning in your stool to face him fully again, “We’re nothing alike.”

He shakes his head, a few of his brown strands of hair falls out of place from his slicked back hairstyle, “Well,” He begins, something different reflecting back in his eyes, something kinder than before, “He’s obviously after the wrong sister.”

“Ah,” you say, grinning, “I knew you were planning to seduce me.”

He laughs at this, heartily, and adds, “Guess I wasn’t being gentlemanly after all.”

You smirk at this, your stare lingering, “Good.”

Suddenly your group of friends start hooting loudly as people are grinding and who knows what else and you cringe at the noise they make; feeling secondhand embarrassment from their drunken actions.

“Loud bunch, aren’t they?” He says, looking past your head at them before finding your eyes again, “I say we should ditch them.”

Your eyes light up and you can’t help but laugh, “And go where? Another piece of shit bar?”

He smirks, “Well, I know something a little classier and it’s actually not too far of a walk from here.” He stands up from the stool, running a hand through his hair trying to gel back his fallen strands, “My apartment,” he grins something mischievous.

You contemplate a moment, relishing this moment of a really  _cute_ guy wanting to take you back to his place. You can’t remember the last time this kind of thing has happened, and you can’t believe that it’s happening again on one of the nights you feel the most depressed. Obviously, you would say no, usually, but something about Rafe makes you wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him tomorrow morning…

His gaze is soft; kind, something you wouldn’t have expected from him earlier. Maybe he’s cunning and this is all a plan to seduce you for just one night, that nothing else will ever grow from it, that he’s selfishly looking for someone to use and then dispose of when he’s finished or bored. But the fact that something inside you tells you differently… you can’t help but want him to be different than that. Either way, at least one night of your life will be different from the rest, right? What have you got to lose?

He tilts his head, “Or…”

You stand up from your stool after finishing off the rest of your drink and suddenly grow in confidence, “Sounds good to me.”

Rafe slides into his expensive looking jacket and zips it up before leading you out of the front door, you don’t bother to say goodbye to your group but instead leave a text on your sister’s phone before walking to Rafe’s.

* * *

 

To say Rafe’s apartment is snazzy would be an understatement. You realized earlier in your discussion with him at the bar that he must have a good source of money or some kind of luck through his expensive taste in clothing but you never realized that it would be this…  _fancy_. You stand in awe of the interior design as soon as you walk into the entry.

Rafe glances back at you when he realizes you’re not following, and he laughs, “Coming? Or should I just assume that you’ll sleep in the entryway tonight?”

You grin sheepishly, blushing, and catch up with him just as he walks into the kitchen and dining area, an open room with enormous glass windows from ceiling to floor on one side of the room overlooking the rest of the city, splash of lights and colour reflected. You practically drop your jaw and excitedly hurry over to the wall of windows.

“Woah…”

Rafe only chuckles before heading to his cabinet, “You want another drink?”

You turn to him, shedding your jacket and slipping your cramped heels from your feet, “Yes please.” You glance around at the rest of the enormous room, “Who designed all of this?”

He places two wine glasses down on the marble counter, “Me.” He glances up at you, “Wine okay?”

You raise your eyebrows, “You designed this?”

He shrugs, “With a little help here and there. What can I say? I like maintaining appearances.”

You’re not too sure what to make of that but you don’t read too much into it, instead you nod at the wine bottle he holds in his hand and he pours two glasses.

He comes over to you with both glasses and then places them down on the sleek, glass coffee table in front of his luxurious leather couches. He then relieves you of your jacket and shoes before taking a seat beside you on his couch.

You sip at the wine tentatively, noting that the bottle was some top-notch stuff. You try to process it all, take it all in. When you first saw Rafe in the bar you thought he was going to be some kind of low-life, especially after calling out to you like he did.

He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he sat down next to you, his voice is quiet, “What are you thinking about?”

You shake yourself out of your mini-trance, “Just…” You sigh, and shuffle uncomfortably.

“What?”

You shift again, trying to find the right words. “Just feeling… thankful, is all. That you’re even talking to me.” Then you raise your glass up at him, “And sharing such good wine with me, I mean, I went out tonight feeling pretty miserable and you’ve kinda… you’ve made it better. Made me feel better.” You blush brightly, feeling the heat running to your cheeks, suddenly wishing you never even opened your mouth. You barely know the guy and you’re already saying embarrassing things.

He stares at you a little too long and you feel your heart pick up its speed.

“I mean,” you go to say something else, anything, maybe you can clear up what you said to make it seem less corny or tell a funny joke to make him forget about it but nothing comes to mind, and instead of saying anything intelligent at all your words become pointless rambles until Rafe scoots closer to you. You stop talking just as he slowly closes the distance between you both, his hand holding the side of your neck as he presses his lip against yours.

Both you and Rafe carefully place your wine glasses down on the coffee table again while still kissing, Rafe carefully following you back into the couch as you lean in deeper into the cushioning. The kisses you share are heated, excited, yearning; the taste of him something like you’ve never known before. He hovers over you as there’s a moment’s pause; his eyes searching yours.

In a sudden flash, everything that you’ve said no to, every night that has gone by where you felt the same as the time before and the time before that… You shake that away because in this one moment, in this one night, things will be different. You meet his lips again, urging, and his hands fumble with the zipper of your dress. You begin to unbutton his shirt.

As his shirt hangs open and your dress is tossed over onto the floor somewhere, Rafe slides his hands underneath you and brings you up onto his hips. You hold on as he moves you from his couch to his bed in almost graceful stumbling. He sheds his shirt, and as he reaches down to you as you lay on your back, his next kiss is longer and you find yourself holding on for more.

He kisses your neck, the bare skin of his body against yours, as he trails kisses down the middle of your chest. You shiver, and suddenly in one moment you realise this isn’t you at all. This feeling so foreign and intense,  _different_ , it shocks you completely.

You shove him off you and scramble up against the headboard of his bed and he blinks, watching you intently.

You’re suddenly breathing heavily and thoughts rush to your mind, swimming around, unable to escape. “I…” You didn’t mean to shove him or hurt him, “I’m sorry, I—  
You stop short when you meet eyes with him.

His eyes are wide and concerned but you’re not sure if you’re reading them right in the dark. He opens his mouth, hesitant, he says it calmly, “Are you okay?” He leans on his hands, breathing slowly.

You breathe shallowly, glancing around wildly, “I-I… I don’t know…” You try to calm your breathing by taking deeper breaths, “I don’t do…  _this_ often.” You find his eyes again, “I didn’t mean to…” You rest your face into your hands feeling embarrassed.

He scoots closer to you slowly, cautioned, and his hand grazes the side of your arm before he gently takes your hands away; he holds your face softly. You let him touch you knowing he’s not going to hurt you or push you, somehow you know. “It’s okay.” His voice quiet and different to the smirks, different to the sarcasm.

You nod and slide in closer to him, his hands travelling down to wrap around your lower back, holding you close. He kisses you slowly, less urgent than before, not in need from desire, but still in need of being close to you. You let him.

You lay on your side and he lays on his, facing you, breaking away, his hand dropping from the side of your face to rest on your arm. You love how he can’t not touch you, but tonight you know you can’t give yourself to him. And for some wild reason unknown to you, Rafe is okay with that.

“Do you uh…” He pauses, searching your eyes, having little to no experience in actually asking a girl this question. “Do you want to stay the night?”

You nod your head.

Although you both settle down together to sleep, you don’t. Instead, you spend the night talking about almost everything. You find out why Rafe was out all alone tonight: he couldn’t spend another moment fifth wheeling with his friends. You learn their names and the kind of people they are. Nate, although more of a frenemy, an avid explorer and adventurer, a brother called Sam to match and their current girlfriends. You learn that they’re in the middle of researching a lost, expensive artifact and you almost didn’t believe him—but then he showed you his loose findings on his laptop. 

You find out about the person he was forced to be and about the person he wants to be. 

You learn about his parents. A little. But he doesn’t like to speak about it.

He turns the discussion to you; he might have a bit of an ego but talking about himself has always been difficult for him to do; but deep down he’s proud that he was even able to tell you the things he did.

You tell him about your family, where you grew up, what you studied at university. You tell him how crappy you’ve been feeling. You tell him your favourite food and flowers, and he smiles widely. You tell him about your dreams. And finally, you tell him that he is like no other guy.

He kisses you once more and tells you that you aren’t like any other girl.

* * *

 

When you wake up, you’re confused. But only for a split second because as soon as you feel Rafe’s arms around you, you remember the safety and security; this weird connection you have with a man you only just met last night. You turn onto your opposite side and look at him, slowly, quietly; his breathing drawn and out and deep, still asleep.

You kiss his nose, so gently that it’s almost nonexistent. You carefully slip out of his arms and sit on the edge of the bed, staring out towards the living room where all of your clothes reside. You think about just leaving... because you’re not sure what Rafe would want. Usually you would. But last night… you talked almost until the sun rose and now it feels like you actually…  _know_ him, it wouldn’t be right to just vanish with the morning. But if Rafe expects...

Suddenly there’s a shuffle of blankets, “Hmm…” He blinks his eyes open, staring after you, you can feel his stare against your back. His voice rough with sleep, “Going somewhere?”

“I uh... wasn’t sure if...” You say weakly, glancing back at him behind you. 

He seems to understand what you mean all too quickly. “You can leave if you want but… I make a  _damn_ good bacon and egg breakfast so…”

You giggle, collapsing back onto the bed, you see a smile form on his lips and kiss him back when they press against yours. Your stomach suddenly rumbles, interrupting the kiss and it makes you both laugh. “Guess I’ll have to stay then.” You say quietly, in between more morning kisses.

As you help him make breakfast (although let’s be honest, he’s a total master chef) you realise how lucky you are to have met him.

And he thinks how lucky he is to have met you.


End file.
